“It’s Jago,” I said.
“It’s Caroline,” he answered.
Throwing aside decorum he put his arms round me and hugged me.
“What a delightful … I was going to say surprise … but the news of your impending arrival had already reached us … so I’ll say occasion. You can imagine how thrilled I’ve been awaiting the reunion. Welcome back to Cornwall. You’ve grown up.” He looked at my hair and raised his eyebrows. “Still the same green-eyed siren, though. I couldn’t have borne it if you had changed.”
Gwennie said: “Well, everybody’s met each other before, haven’t they? Even I met Miss Caroline once. Do you remember? It was at the inn where Pa and I stayed. You two came in and tried to put us off. You told us what a terrible place this was … on the point of collapse.”
“We didn’t want to hide the truth from you, dear Gwennie,” said Jago.
“You were up to something … as usual.”
“What a day that was,” said Jago. “The moors … Caroline’s horse was in trouble and we had to go to the blacksmith: I can see that ‘do you remember’ is going to be the theme of our conversation for some time to come.”
“And I can see that you are obviously well pleased with life, Jago,” I said.
“It’s a mistake to be otherwise than pleased with life.”
“It is not always easy to be pleased with something which is not pleasing,” said Paul.
“It’s what is called an approach to living,” explained Jago.
“Very glib,” commented Paul; and Gwennie said, “Shall we go in to dinner?”
She came to me and slipped her arm through mine. “I did explain,” she said in a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s quite informal tonight. Just the family. Mind you, we do entertain in style now and then. I like to get back to the old days of Landower glory … so does Paul … so does Jago.”
“I’m all for the glory,” said Jago, “as you say, dear sister-in-law of mine.”
“We’re not eating in the dining room this evening,” went on Gwennie. “We should all be at great distances from each other. We use it when we have guests but when we’re just family we eat in the little anteroom next to the dining room.”
“Tonight we have our most important guests,” protested Jago.
“They’re neighbours, that’s what I mean,” said Gwennie.
“Which is very pleasant,” put in Cousin Mary.
“Of course we do have big dinner parties now and then,” explained Gwennie. “Sometimes so big that we use the old hall. Well, we have a position to keep up, don’t we? It wouldn’t do for us to forget our position in the Duchy … if you see what I mean.”
I glanced at Paul. He was biting his lips in annoyance. Jago was looking amused.
She led us through the dining room to the smaller room. I could see what she meant. We should have been lost at that vast table and conversation would have been difficult. The dining room was quite splendid with its lofty ceiling and tapestried walls; the other room was delightful, cosy, intimate, with a small window looking out on a courtyard. The table was laid for five and there was a candelabrum in the centre, though the candles had not yet been lighted. The ceiling was painted in delicate pastel shades, representing Neptune holding court.
“What a delightful room!” I said.
“You’ve restored it beautifully,” added Cousin Mary.
“It cost me something to have that ceiling done,” said Gwennie. “You couldn’t even see what it was meant to be. Like everything else it had been neglected. I got an artist down here. He had to clean it and then restore it. I can tell you a pretty penny had to be spent on this place.”
“Dear Gwennie!” murmured Jago. “She has been so generous with her pretty pennies. Personally I have never cared whether they were pretty or plain. Any penny is good enough for me.”
“He likes to take a rise out of me,” Gwennie explained confidentially to me.
“Dear Gwennie,” went on Jago. “No one could be more proud of this old house than she is. She’s more of a Landower than any of us, are you not, dear sister-in-law!”
“A woman’s family is the one she marries into,” said Gwennie sententiously.
“Which sounds as if it came out of the prayer book,” said Jago, “but knowing our wise little Gwennie, I’ll swear she made it up herself.”
Gwennie’s lips were pressed tightly together. I thought there was tension between them all. Both Jago and Paul hated to have her money saving them. They should have thought of that before they took it, I thought severely.
She turned to Cousin Mary and me with a smile and indicated where we were to sit. Paul was at one end of the table, she at the other. I was on Paul’s right and Jago was next to me. Cousin Mary faced us.
As the meal was served, Cousin Mary talked a great deal about estate matters with Paul. I listened with attention and was able to offer a remark now and then. I had already learned a little and was finding it interesting. I was desperately seeking to divert my thoughts from all the unpleasantness I had discovered.
Jago leaned towards me and said sotto voce: “There’s a lot for us to catch up on. I was wildly excited when I heard that you were coming and desolate when you were whisked away. It was rather sudden, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, it was. I hated going.”
“We were such friends in that little while, were we not? What good times we had. I hope we are going on from there.”
“Oh, I daresay you have a lot to occupy you and I’m learning something about the Tressidor estate. It’s very interesting.”
“I never allow business to interfere with pleasure.”
Paul overheard that remark and said: “I assure you that this at least is one occasion when Jago speaks with sincerity.”
“You see how they treat me,” said Jago, raising his eyes to the ceiling.
“You’re treated better than you deserve,” commented Gwennie.
“Hush! Caroline will think I’m a wastrel.”
“I daresay she knows that already,” said Gwennie. “If she doesn’t, she soon will.”
“You mustn’t believe half they say of me,” said Jago to me.
“I always make my own judgements,” I assured him.
“Remember rumour is a lying jade.”
“But it is true,” said Paul, “that the most convincing rumours are founded on truth.”
“The oracle has spoken,” said Jago. “But Caroline is going to consider me from the wisdom of her own experience.”
“I always believe in saying what I mean … right out,” Gwennie put in. “No beating about the hush. Some people would tell any tale to get out of saying something that might not be polite. It’s what my father used to call the perfidy of the southerner.”
“Compared with the sterling honesty of the northerners,” added Paul.
“There’s a lot to be said for honesty,” persisted Gwennie.
“Sometimes it can be very uncomfortable,” I reminded her.
“It often happens,” said Paul, “that people who are determined to say what they mean—however displeasing it may be to others—are not quite so happy when others are equally frank with them.”
“I’m all for the comfortable life,” said Jago. “I am sure that is the best way of getting along.”
There was a certain asperity creeping into the conversation. Cousin Mary threw me a glance and started to talk about the pictures in the house.
“There was such a fine collection.”
But this was just another outlet for Gwennie’s favourite theme.